Page 86 of Code Name: Harbor

Yeah… that’s what I’ll pretend.

This is the new foundation of my life. I won’t ask questions and Finn won’t volunteer answers about the run. We’ve built a wall down the middle of what we share, and on the other side of that wall is the part of him that’s still a smuggler and the part of me who still works to put criminals away. We shake hands politely across the bricks when one of us touches the edge of the other’s professional life and it works. For now.

Well, it works in the way a tourniquet works, but it’s not meant to stay in place forever or else the blood flow could get cut off and result in death.

The doorbell chimes and I hear Finn trotting down the stairs. He shoots me a wink before cutting to the front door to let Connie and Marcus in.

I finely dice the rosemary and sprinkle it over the potatoes before wiping my hands on a towel, and by the time I’m setting it back in place over a cabinet hook, I’m facing Marcus with a perfectly composed smile.

To my surprise, he walks around the island and gives me a quick hug. “Josie… whatever you’re making, I want to live in it.”

I catch Finn’s eyes and note he has a fond smile in place. Almost as if he’s grateful for Marcus’s acceptance of me. “Just roasted chicken. There’s enough for an army, so you’re welcome to join us.” And then my eyes meet Connie’s where she walks behind Finn. “And you too, Connie.”

“No can do,” Marcus says with a squeeze to my upper arm. “Connie and I have work to do tonight.”

Of course they do. They’re getting ready to smuggle illegal art tomorrow night.

Connie lifts her chin to me. “Appreciate the invite, but as the second boss man says, got work to do.”

Hmm. That was actually… polite. I give her a blinding smile in return.

She nods at the stove. “What did you name your chicken?”

“Excuse me?” I ask, completely confused.

“All the great chefs name their poultry. It’s a thing.”

“Oh… I didn’t know that.” I consider a good name. “I guess I’d name it—”

Connie barks a laugh. “It’s not a thing. I’m fucking with you. The chicken smells excellent.” She winks. She actually winks at me. “But we gotta go because Finn’s getting itchy.”

I look over to him.

“I’m not itchy,” Finn says.

“You’re so itchy. Look at you. You’re standing there checking your watch like a hostage.”

Marcus snorts and shakes his head and Finn shoots him a look that should kill him on the spot. The three of them have an easy, genuine rhythm that’s come from years of knowing someone on a deep level. I imagine Connie’s been ribbing Finn since they were teenagers and Marcus has probably been refereeing this dynamic for as long as he’s known them.

“All right,” Finn says. “Patio. Let’s get this done so you can leave and I can eat this wonderful meal cooked by my woman.”

My woman.

The phrase hits me like a warm punch to my gut, not painful but present. It’s a bold statement to make and my eyes cut to Connie to see if it bothers her.

But she just rolls her eyes. “I’m so charmed by your hospitality.”

“Martha Stewart I am not,” Finn drawls.

And yeah… she seems okay.

I think things are okay.

The three of them go out through the slider and pull it shut behind them. Connie tips her head back, laughs at something Finn says before they’ve even fully sat down.

I exhale and decide to pour myself a glass of wine. Despite that being a relatively friendly exchange with Connie, now that she’s not in my proximity, I realize that I’m tense.

I take a sip and set the wineglass aside, putting the potatoes in the oven and getting a pan ready to sauté the green beans. I won’t hit them until about ten minutes prior to serving.